hooks

Friday, 9am

This past Wednesday, the participants who we typically work with in the woodshop traveled to Haverford again, this time to work with trees. We have been using wood from white oak trees to build our boxes at the center, and wanted to engage directly with the source--of which there are many on Haverford's campus! I worked with Carl* and Natalie to measure around a tree (at about chest height) and use some calculations to convert that into how old the tree was. We talked about how amazing it was that this tree, at 55 years old, was older than all of us. We then used perspective and a wooden dowel to stand far back and determine the height of the tree.

Quoting M. Scott Peck, bell hooks defines love as “the will to extend one’s self for the purpose of nurturing one’s own or another’s spiritual growth [. . .] Love is as love does. Love is an act of will—namely, both an intention and an action. Will also implies choice. We do not have to love. We choose to love” (hooks 28-29).

Paloma, Sula, Meera, Gabriela, and Paola

As I wasn't feeling well, I didn't go in to the center this past week. I'm looking forward to this coming Wednesday, when we'll be working with Natalie at Haverford to measure trees and to have a small workshop-style conversation. The topic was originally going to center around gender, sexuality, and our bodies, but it looks like the focus is shifting to a more general get-to-know-you session, as we haven't had many opportunities to really talk to the participants we're working with. 

I came into CCW this morning in the midst of a really rough week, so I probably wasn't entering that space in the ideal mindset. The moment I came in, though, Jessica noticed that I seemed a little nervous and immidiately asked me what was happening, and I was really frank and honest with her. She told me that I had a choice of what I wanted to do today, and that I could do whatever made me feel safest/most comfortable. I ended up working with Ronnie again from last week, and we continued on with the project that we had left off with earlier. I felt really in tun with her mood today, and I think she was in tune with mine too. At one point, she was repeatedly dropping the needle and I could see her beginning to get frustrated.

Friday, 9am
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It’s been a while since the last set of field notes, and this one’s going to be a bit short because Friday’s visit to the Center was very odd. I walked in, signed in, and looked for the placement coordinator. She wasn’t at her desk, and I couldn’t find anyone in the office. The meeting room where I usually stored my jacket and bag (with my phone, wallet, etc.) was being used, by what appeared to be a staff member and a family. Not wanting to intrude/hear personal things about someone’s disability or medical history, I stuffed my jacket in my bag and took the whole thing downstairs, hoping to find “Clyde”, the sculpture instructor.

This past Wednesday at the center, we met in the woodshop to continue our white oak box project. Because it was snacktime when we got there, we headed over to a different part of the center, where we checked out a petri dish paint project some partcipants had been working on (playing on the science/bacteria themes we had begun to explore in the labs at Haverford). Returning to the woodshop, we began by heating a small block of wax, which, once liquified, was collected in small tools we could use to draw on our wood pieces. Carl and I each took two sides of the box and drew wax designs on them. We then brought our pieces over to another part of the room, where we sprayed them first with black tea, and then once that had dried, with some liquid rust.

Yesterday was my first official day at CCW, and I already cannot wait until next week. There is so much there that is radically different to my work at a prison, which is where I had my praxis last semester. The prison required a brief period of recovery, of processing the systems of control that make up every experience. At CCW, I feel the flows of emotions as they come, expressing them freely because it is the opposite: there is so little control that is imposed upon me and everyone else in that space.